John Wayne
by youdressedsofine
Summary: The one in which Dan and Blair stop ignoring the signs life is giving them. Post S3 with some slight changes from canon.


**A/N: Er, hello! I know I need to update my other fics (they have not been abandoned...I am very, very sorry for the delay), but this happened when that was supposed to be happening. I hope you (if there are any of you left lol) will accept this as an apology and as something to tide you over until I can get the others updated (which will seriously be soon!). I've always had this idea to do a fic for everytime during a season Dan and Blair could have happened and this is part of that. I've been sitting on it since last year and decided it was time to finally clean it up and post it. It's set maybe a couple of weeks after 3x22. Things that are different in this fic: Vanessa and Dan broke up at some point due to distance, Georgina has not shown up at Dan's door announcing she's pregnant with his child, and Dan chose not to follow Serena to Paris because, well, I say so and he's over being her lap dog. There will be mentions of Dan's and Blair's complicated love lives with others. I think that basically covers what you need to know! Dan and Blair would have made the best, most entertaining fuck buddies so I guess this is my attempt that I am sure will turn into a fluffy, gooey love fest before it's all said and done. I hope you enjoy! As always, any feedback is welcome! **

**Title is from The John Wayne by Little Green Cars. **

"What's your name, beautiful?" Dan feels a little bad for the drunken hipster trying to hit on her. All the same, he observes the scene with amusement. It's been a long, uneventful party. He needs some form of entertainment. Blair Waldorf will have to do.

She makes a small noise to indicate her distaste as her eyes scan his body. "John Wayne." She replies flatly and takes a sip from her cup. Dan feels something spark inside of him and push him closer to the action. He doesn't know why he's still surprised by how clever she is. The hipster looks around confused and Dan chuckles to himself as he watches the scene unfold. This kid is never going to get it.

"Like John Wayne the western dude?" The hipster has moved from confused to intrigued.

She frowns. "It's really no fun if I have to explain it to you." Blair sighs and checks her nails before she looks up at the guy. "Like John Wayne the western dude who shot people down without so much as a second thought." She smirks and leaves her victim in her dust as she starts to move confidently through the party. John Wayne indeed.

Dan can't even help the small smile that forms on his lips after witnessing the execution. "As I recall, John Wayne usually had a clean shot." He says as he falls into step beside her.

She turns her head and looks at him curiously. "What are you doing, Humphrey?"

"I'm bored and buzzed; you're making a mockery of NYU's dullest. You do the math." He shrugs and takes a sip of his beer.

"Feeling left out?" She cuts her eyes to him for a moment. "You know you've had plenty of turns. I have to spread the wealth." He smirks as he looks ahead. She isn't wrong. "His slow death, by the way, had nothing to do with my aim and everything to do with his IQ." She pushes the door to the staircase open. Dan follows her against his better judgment and nearly gets smacked in the head by the door she doesn't bother to hold for him. He ignores that warning because she's a familiar face and that's kind of what he wants right now. Serena had told him she was coming home for a few days to see Dorota, but he hadn't expected to actually see her. It surprised him in a good way? Sometimes he misses his high school…..torturers. It must be some delayed form of Stockholm Syndrome. She clears her throat and looks up at him as she starts to walk down the stairs.

"Uh, so, where are you going?" There's no sense in beating around the bush with her. She'll enjoy it too much when she inevitably figures out that he wants company.

"I don't know." She sighs loudly. "The truth of the matter is I'm bored and buzzed myself."

"Oh." He does not know how to even hang out with her. "Well, I think the loft should be free if you want to go watch a movie or something."

She groans. "Humphrey, I am not going to watch one of Vanessa's home movies with you so you can cry on my shoulder."

He clicks his tongue against his teeth. "I'm fine. Long distance relationships never work and I don't know—I think—I think my feelings for her were born out of some weird need I have to just have feelings for someone, you know? Maybe that's why I got tangled up with Serena again..." She stops short on the stairs and he nearly falls over her. She turns and looks at him like she's already bored. He rolls his eyes and waits for her sass.

"This is exactly what I mean." She huffs out a breath. "I have no interest in your relationship with Vanessa or Serena or your self-reflections. I refuse to suffer for my sins in this manner." She turns around and continues walking down the stairs.

"What sins?" He shakes his head and furrows his brow. "Why are you suddenly so caught up in the bad things you've done?"

"If you promise to be as quiet as an obedient little mouse and let me try to choose something watchable from what I'm sure is a rather emo-indie film library I will allow you the pleasure of my company." He's not even surprised she ignored his question. She can read people like a book and throw their darkest secrets in their face, but don't ask her where she bought her shoes and expect an honest answer. She throws the door open and, again, doesn't bother to hold it for him. He catches it hard with his hands.

"Fine." He shakes his head and begins in the direction toward the loft. Lonely boy has reached new levels of loneliness if she's the best he can wrangle up in the friend department. He's made it a block or two when he realizes she's trailing kind of far behind him. He turns to look at her. "Blair, it's Brooklyn. You won't see anyone you know here; it's ok to walk a little closer."

"It's my shoes." She whines. "I'm not drunk enough for this walk in these heels. They're not broken in yet."

"Oh." He stops and waits for her to catch up to him. "Why didn't you say so?"

She darts her eyes around the street as she stops beside him. "I don't know. I guess it usually doesn't matter."

He purses his lips as his eyes study her. A glimpse of the vulnerable Blair Waldorf happens about once a year with him, but he's starting to lose count in just the past few months. She moves past him before he can reply. She makes a quiet whimpering noise with each limp she struggles to take. He can't talk himself out of opening his mouth. "Do—Do you want me to carry you or something?"

"Oh my God." She scrunches up her face. "This is not _Wuthering Heights _and you are no Heathcliff."

His face scrunches up and he nearly laughs out loud. "Uh, Heathcliff is a psychopath." She scoffs and keeps moving. God, she is just so annoying. What was he thinking? "Though I'm not surprised you don't recognize that." He mutters. She shoots him a glare and trips over a broken piece of sidewalk. She recovers on her own and tosses her hair over her shoulder as she continues walking. Something about it impresses him. He sighs and wonders if they'll always be in this holding pattern. Someone has to break the cycle here. "I could give you a piggy back ride."

She stops walking and looks over at him thoughtfully. "If you ever even think of mentioning this to anyone—"

He stops beside her. "I know, I know. You'll ruin my life, blah blah blah." He turns and waits for her to climb on. He can feel her behind him, but she hasn't even made a move yet. "What are you doing?" He turns his head to see her thinking hard.

"How do I…." She bites her lip and points to his back.

"Wow. Ok. The Upper East Side has got to be the stuffiest place on earth." She huffs and he backs closer to her. "Alright, wrap your arms around my neck and like lift yourself off the ground then wrap your legs around my waist—" She clumsily climbs onto him before he can even finish, nearly knocking them both to the ground. "Ok. Or like that." She's practically choking him. He grabs her legs to make sure she doesn't fall off as he starts to move. He should have thought about that before he did it. She's going to yell about boundaries and privileges any second now. Not to mention her legs are really soft and smooth. They're—they're nice. He won't lie to himself and act like he's never noticed that Blair is beautiful and….sexy, but he always thought actually touching her would be weird. He feels her adjust against him and she rests her head against the side of his. She never did say anything about his hands on her legs and now this…. "You ok back there?" Why did he ask that? She's going to attack for sure now.

"Yes. This is bearable." She says quietly. Bearable. That's practically a declaration of eternal devotion from her.

He manages to make it all the way up the stairs and into the loft with her in place on his back. When they get inside he stops in the middle of the room and she climbs down slowly. "Thank you." She mumbles and kicks her shoes off.

"Mmmhmmm." He shoves his hands in his pockets. What was his plan here? Did he ever really have one beyond having company?

She looks at him with wide, annoyed eyes before she brushes past him. He nearly falls over, but catches himself and follows her into the kitchen. "Wine, Humphrey?"

"Oh, uh, sure." He runs a hand along the back of his head.

She narrows her eyes. "Do you have any?" She says it slowly, pointedly so he realizes his error.

"Oh, right." He laughs and shakes his head. He moves past her and grabs a bottle from the holder on the counter. "You can get comfortable or whatever." He waves a hand toward the living room. "The movies are all in there." He continues rummaging through the drawer for the wine opener and it occurs to him he hasn't seen it since Serena was last here. What the hell did she do with it? He slams the drawer shut in frustration.

"Something wrong?" Her gentle, curious voice surprises him.

"No. Just Sere—" She looks at him with that bored look again and he tries not to laugh. He spots the opener on the counter behind a jar. "Nevermind. Problem solved." He keeps his eyes on her as he opens the bottle. Her hair covers her face as she looks through his dvd holder. She makes soft sounds as she flips through his collection; most are scoffs, but every now and then there's a pleased little sigh that he barely hears. He likes something about it; likes something about pleasing her. His skin flushes and he turns away quickly to get the glasses out of the cabinet. Those are thoughts he, Dan Humphrey, should not be having about her, Blair Waldorf. He clears his throat and buries the thoughts as he grabs the glasses of wine and makes his way to sit beside her on the sofa.

He's horrified to find he's buried those thoughts in the shallowest of graves as she looks at him with an almost grateful smile as she takes her wine from him. "Thanks, Humphrey." Her eyes shine despite the dim lighting, and her smile….it's genuine. He can count on one hand the number of times he's seen her smile genuinely, nevermind smiling at _him _genuinely. She's undeniably entrancing tonight.

He sits beside her and takes a long gulp of his wine. "So—uh—any contenders yet?"

She sets her glass on the table in front of them and nods her head as she finishes swallowing."Funny you phrased it like that." She looks at him with an arched eyebrow. "'On the Waterfront' is my selection." She carefully slides the disc out from the plastic holder. He actually feels his heart sputter and stop. No one is ever so careful with his dvds—or cds and records—and it drives him crazy. Serena would carelessly slip them out and grab the whole thing to hand it to him as she laughed through a story while Vanessa would drop them or leave them on countertops. "Should you be drinking anymore tonight?" Blair asks amusedly as she holds his dvd out in front of him, her pretty little index finger cautiously through the center of the disc.

He smiles nervously and takes it from her, his fingers gripping the outer edges. "I'm just surprised you chose this one. Literally the first guest to make that selection…." He gets up and puts the dvd in the player. He takes his time walking back to the sofa. He has to get it together. So she's pretty and has had a rough time lately and is being nice to him and has good taste in movies….she's still Blair Waldorf. She just banished his sister from the city, which sounds as ridiculous in his head as it actually is, and she's been cruel to him for years. He was just glad to see a familiar face, even if it was hers. Keep it together, Humphrey.

"As suspected, I'm the smartest person you know." She smiles at him sweetly when he sits back down.

He smirks as he leans back and drinks more of his wine. "I don't know that many people."

She laughs loudly and tucks her legs up on the sofa. "Humphrey, we have to work on your insults." She shakes her head and sips her wine as the movie starts. "You basically insulted yourself." He shrugs apathetically and turns back to the screen. He can feel her eyes are still on him. "We'll hash this out after the movie ends; I can't stand talking through movies." He turns to eye her. "You've been warned."

"I agree with you, Waldorf." He tosses a pillow at her. She squeals and holds her wine out of the way. "So pipe down."

* * *

He's not sure when he fell asleep or when the tiny brunette with the razor sharp tongue resting against him came to be resting against him. He is sure, however, that this is awkward and that when she wakes up she'll somehow find a way to blame this on him even though she clearly made the journey to his side of the couch. It's probably best for his safety to just wake her now. He looks at her again. She can't be comfortable. He should probably offer her the bed. Maybe he should just carry her….Nope. That's a good way to get killed. It's best to wake her now and clear this up. He should relish in disturbing Blair Waldorf, but she looks so peaceful. Even though he hates what she did to Jenny, he understands she's hurt and he gets that. He feels like he's missing some information too. She's been acting strange since Dorota's wedding and he's positive it's related to Chuck Bass as well. He'd never say this to anyone, but she could do so much better if she'd realize it. She's fixated on him for reasons Dan will never understand. He sighs and lets his musings go. It's time.

"Blair." He says her name softly and shakes her shoulder gently. She stirs and scrunches up her face. She whimpers and readjusts against him, drifting off again. "Hey, wake up." He says a little louder and gives her shoulder a light shove.

She wakes up with a groan and moves her eyes to him. "Humphrey." She pouts her lips. "Have I been so cruel to you?"

He rolls his eyes. "You have actually, but that's not why I'm waking you up." She arches an eyebrow with dissatisfaction. "I didn't want you to freak out when you woke up in the morning because you were sleeping with me. Which, by the way, I'd like to point out was probably your doing." He smirks tiredly and she huffs.

"I was delirious from the alcohol and exhaustion." She yawns and sits up. "I haven't slept well in ages." She runs a hand through her hair. He sits up and studies her. There it is again. He's dying to know what has her so troubled. She turns her head and furrows her brow. "Stop looking at me like that." She says menacingly and cuts her eyes away. "Where's my phone?" She murmurs and feels around for it.

"What's going on with you?" He blurts out before he can think better of it.

"Excuse me?" She looks at him again.

"You just seem really sad lately." He bites his lip. "But it's more than sadness and it's been going on before Chuck and—it's been going on for a while…..It's like you're discontent or something."

"As if I'd give you a reason to gloat." She scowls at him.

"I wouldn't—" He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair. "That wasn't why I was asking. I thought you might want to talk about it in more detail. Sometimes that helps." He shrugs.

She keeps her eyes on his for a long moment before she cuts them away quickly. "Do you know where my phone is? I'll call my service." She bites her lip. "Hopefully someone can come get me. What time is it?" She looks at him again.

"Don't—You don't have to do that." He shakes his head. "I was going to offer you my bed earlier. I know it's probably not what you're used to, but it's more comfortable than me and this sofa." He smiles. Her eyes narrow and he notes her suspicion. "I'll stay out here. Obviously."

She clicks her tongue against her teeth. "I know you wouldn't do anything like that, Humphrey." She takes a breath and sits up a little straighter. "I just can't believe I'm experiencing the famous Humphrey chivalry first hand." She smirks. "It's kind of nice."

His eyes widen. "Wow. You really must be sleep deprived." She just stares at him for a moment.

Her smile falters a little. "You really woke me up to make me more comfortable?"

"Yes." He says slowly and darts his eyes around the room before returning them to hers. She purses her lips thoughtfully. Her lips are on his before he even realizes what's happening. He moans in confusion and holds his hands in the air like he's in trouble. This is not his fault. He cannot be blamed for this. He….does not find kissing her as offensive as he should. Shit.

She pulls back nearly as suddenly as she had kissed him and he almost falls forward. She arches an eyebrow. It seems like a challenge. He takes it. His hands move to her hair and her hands move to his shoulders as she leans into him. It—It's not bad. Not at all. He likes it. He likes kissing Blair Waldorf. So far.

Then it occurs to him how _wrong _it is for _them _to be doing _this_. And yet he can't bring himself to really care. He moans against her mouth and kisses her harder. She sucks on his lip and it triggers something deep in his gut. Finally. He grips her hair a little harder and pulls her back. "Blair…." He says quietly, his eyes darting between her lips and her eyes. Her lips are pouty, more so than usual, and her eyes are all want.

"Shut up." She kisses him again.

"This is—" He barely gets those words out before she's taken his face between her hands and is kissing him with more passion than he thinks he's ever been kissed. It's shocking and exhilarating. He tries to match her intensity and has to pause for a breath. Their eyes connect again.

"Just shut up." She murmurs quietly as she closes the distance between their lips again. "Mmmm…." She presses her hips against his and her tongue glides easily, almost carelessly, along his. He feels dizzy and heady, not unlike a Jane Austen heroine dancing with her suitor. It must be the wrongness of it all. It has to be. He's never done anything _this _wrong before. This could have actual fallout. Like people won't talk to him anymore and she could very possibly be disowned by her community. This might actually be more exciting than the threesome…..Blair breaks away from him lazily, but she stays close to him. She shifts above him and the little moan he hears makes his heart skip a beat. She relaxes against him and he feels her hand slide under his shirt. She squeezes his hip gently and lets her hand rest there. He pushes her veil of hair back and inspects her. She seems to be doing the same. She sighs and closes the distance between them. He knew it. He knew underneath all of that force and determination there was softness. She's different now. There's a languid, interested quality to her kisses that he finds undeniably intoxicating. He rests a hand against her cheek and strokes his thumb over her skin. It's like actual porcelain. He settles back against the couch, deciding to enjoy this for what it is and/or isn't. She sinks further against him and he gets lost in kissing her. Her lips leave his and his eyes fly open. He misses the contact until he feels them press along his jaw. She leaves a slow path to his ear. He grips at her dress when she takes his earlobe between her teeth. "You're a better kisser than I expected." Her breath and words tease against his skin.

He can't help the light laugh that rumbles in his chest. "Gee, thanks, Waldorf."

"Humphrey." She rolls her eyes and this is it: this is the moment where her eye rolls turn from trite to endearing. He swallows the lump in his throat that forewarns of disaster. She presses one long kiss to his lips. "The compliment is that I'm still here." She laughs, genuinely laughs, against his lips before she kisses him again. He can't help but smile against her lips. He doesn't remember her laughing at her own digs before. Something about this night and them like this in the dark of the loft has sent all of their walls tumbling down. Maybe it's because this shouldn't be happening; the universe should not be allowing this. They've slipped through the cracks and he's already somehow grateful for it. This is simply about Dan and Blair; two people who have never made any moves to impress the other. It's cathartic to find himself entangled with her like this. She withdraws from him again and sits up. She traces a fingertip over his cheekbone and makes a contemplative sound before she leans down to kiss the spot. Her hair covers his face and he is consumed by all things Blair Waldorf. It's so fucked up how much he already doesn't mind that. She sighs and sits up again. He lets his hands rest on her hips. She arches an eyebrow as her hand finds the zipper on her dress. She unzips it and he sees the slight shake in her movements. Something compels him to finish the task and to slide the thin straps of her dress down her arms. He stops before he reveals too much. His hands fall back to her hips and his eyes stay on hers. "This stays between us." She says threateningly and finishes pulling down the top of her dress.

"Of course." He furrows his brow and nods his head. That's for the best anyway. The two of them doing whatever the hell they're doing, would be like an atomic bomb dropped on both of their lives. Chain reactions and explosions cascade right out of his mind when he sees her take her bottom lip between her teeth. She widens her eyes slightly. He hasn't actually looked at her yet. Why is he acting like such a rube with her of all people? She'll only use his thoughtful hesitation to destroy him someday. He takes her in and, for some reason, he feels like his heart is breaking. She's pretty and delicate. Everything about her is new to him. His eyes move back to hers and he sits up quickly. He kisses her roughly and his hands get lost in her hair. He presses his chest against hers and he can feel her breasts through his t-shirt. It's not enough. He breaks away from her lips and kisses her neck. Her head falls back, giving him more access, which he takes, and she gasps. Her hands grip and tug at his t-shirt.

"Take this off." She starts to pull at it and he ignores her demand. He's busy. She tugs hard on his hair. "Now, Humphrey." He rolls his eyes, slightly annoyed, and takes it off hastily. He tosses it across the room before seeking her lips again. Her hands spread out over his skin, touching everywhere. He pushes her back onto the sofa and tries to finish what he started earlier. He kisses down her neck to her chest, he makes a slight detour to her collarbone because the moonlight is hitting it just so, while he's there he decides it would be foolish not to kiss her shoulder, he takes this new route down her chest over her heart, he notices that its beats are only a couple behind his, until he reaches his destination. He's rewarded with gasps and arches into him as he gives his attention to her breasts. "Ohhhh, that feels really good." She mutters nearly incoherently.

He has no idea what possesses him, because hand to God he has never really done a lot of dirty talk without coaxing, but he moves his lips to her ear and whispers. "How good?" He really wants to know. He kisses the skin below her ear and she runs a hand through his hair.

"Good enough to let you fuck me." She says nonchalantly, almost teasingly. Jesus. She's some kind of film vixen and he can't catch his breath and he's getting more ready by the second. He is officially in too deep; he should stop this, but, instead, he's still kissing her neck. Her skin feels like velvet beneath his lips. He finally takes a deep breath against her skin as he makes up his mind. He's never been this far out of his depth before, not even with Serena. She was intimidating in a completely different way. He feels like he might need some kind of life preserver to get out of this alive. Life preservers are safe and boring and…..familiar though; he wants to be in too deep. Just once.

He pulls back from her slowly and she groans. "I'm clearly more than willing to do this; I just want to be sure that you're not going to regret this in the morning." His eyes dance with hers and he feels like this moment is more than just this moment; it's more than just tonight.

She rolls her eyes. "It is morning." She reaches for him, but he pulls back just in time.

"You know what I mean." She sighs and looks away from him. He swallows hard and licks his lips. He wants this, but not at the expense of adding to her regrets that seem to be consuming her these days. "Things are different in the dark and I know we're not drunk, but we're not really sober either. I just—I don't want you to feel pressured or—or to regret this." She moves her eyes back to his slowly and he feels judged. Again. "And—And it's not because I'm trying to turn this into some grand, romantic event, but that doesn't mean I want you to feel bad about it."

"Humphrey." She says softly before she tugs his face closer to hers and places a kiss that's equally as soft to his lips. "I'll only feel bad about it if you suck." She smirks. "So don't suck."

"No pressure." He rolls his eyes.

"Oh, God." She groans and kisses him forcefully. "We were onto something and now you're going to ruin it with talking." She kisses him again and it's working. She's alarmingly easy to get wrapped up in. She moans into his mouth and her legs wrap around him, drawing him closer to her. It's not long and he's ready. He shifts against her and trails a hand up her thigh. He presses his thumb against her underwear and she whimpers. His breathing falters and she breaks away. They're still close and their eyes dance. "I'm ready too." She whispers.

He swallows hard and nods. "The condoms are in my room." He kisses her once before he gets up. All he can think of on his torturous walk away from her warm, wet, soft body is that this must be a dream. In reality, _one_ of them would have the sense to stop this. They just would. It's not real. It's not. He notices his shaking hand as he opens the drawer to his night stand and he scolds himself mentally. There's no need to be such a child about this, real or not.

"Humphrey." Her voice startles him and he turns to see her, the moonlight providing her a subtle spotlight, still half undressed, in his doorway. Fuck it. Whatever this is, he wants her, whatever that means.

"Waldorf." He returns as he makes his way to her purposefully. He exhales with what he's afraid might be relief when their lips connect again, bodies already tangling together again as she guides them toward the bed and he slides her dress off completely.

* * *

A roll of loud thunder startles him awake. He looks out the window and registers that he's not alone in his tangled sheets. He didn't forget about last night, about the girl who helped him create the mess he's lying in; he just thought she'd be long gone. He turns his head slowly and sees that she's sitting up in bed, dress back on, lost in one of the books from his shelves. He knows he should say something, but his mouth is dry….and he has no idea what to say.

"I'm only still here because of the weather." She tells him distractedly as she turns a page. A bolt of lightning strikes as if to emphasize her point. Of course.

"Yep." He rolls his eyes and exhales loudly. "Well, frankly, I'm relieved we didn't ruin our lovely dynamic." He mutters as he gets out of bed and slips on a pair of boxers. He swears he sees a hint of a smirk on her face when he turns to look at her on his way to the bathroom.

"I will be expecting food, Humphrey!" She calls out after he closes the door. He does an impression of her bossy face in the mirror and is horrified to see a smile forming on his own face. Nothing has changed and, yet, everything has changed.


End file.
